


Call Me Son

by taialeh476



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Discipline, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:59:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6567325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taialeh476/pseuds/taialeh476
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ham Kink Meme fill: Hamilton/Washington, spanking, aftercare</p><p>Washington expects Hamilton to retreat into himself after a spanking and bristle if offered any comfort. He's wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me Son

Washington sat at his desk, arms folded, looking sternly at Hamilton, who was practically vibrating with anger and what Washington judged was not a small amount of fear. "But sir-" Hamilton began, but Washington held up a hand to stop him from speaking. "My word is final, Alexander. Submit to this punishment or be sent home in disgrace. No further arguments will be accepted." 

Hamilton stood there glaring at him for a moment longer before slowly taking off his jacket and laying it on a chair. At a meaningful nod from Washington, he pulled down his pants as well. Washington stood and took Hamilton's arm, guiding him so he was laying over his desk with his bottom in the air. Washington pulled from his chest the strap of leather he frequently used when punishing errant soldiers. 

Hamilton had felt the strap before, of course, although never at the hands of the General. He squirmed as he felt the strap rest across his bottom briefly before being withdrawn. The first stroke fell quickly, drawing a startled gasp from Hamilton as he felt it land. His entire body went stiff as he fought against the urge to leap up from the desk. He stifled a gasp and braced himself for the next stroke.

Washington had punished many young men over the years, and was accustomed to their reactions. Some would yell and scream out their pain, while others, like Hamilton, tried to hide their reactions out of a sense of bravado. Those soldiers were always the hardest to break, but were also the most skilled and brave on the battlefield. 

Hamilton gripped the edge of the desk as he braced himself for the next stroke, the tips of his fingers turning white. Washington let the strap fall, again and again, as Hamilton maintained his silent rigidity. Finally, after twenty strokes, Hamilton let out a quiet gasp. The General gave him five more, quickly, before stopping. 

Hamilton lay face down on the desk, breathing hard. Washington reached over and placed a hand on Hamilton's neck. "All done, son. You are forgiven." Hamilton took a shaky breath in and pushed himself up. To Washington's surprise, his face was covered in tears. 

This was the part of any punishment that was hardest for Washington. He always offered comfort, but some soldiers wouldn't accept it, which left him feeling as though he was going against every instinct, allowing them to leave without proper care. 

Washington pulled Hamilton into a hug, fully expecting a stiff body to remain in his arms only as long as absolutely necessary. Instead, Hamilton melted once Washington's arms were around him, doing his best to mold his entire body against Washington's. "Easy, easy," Washington soothed, guiding them both over to the sofa. He sat down and pulled Hamilton into his lap, tucking his legs up onto the sofa and his head below Washington's chin. Hamilton buried his head into Washington's shoulder, and Washington started to slowly stroke Hamilton's hair. 

They sat like that for a while, until Hamilton's shaking stopped. Eventually, he pulled his head up and looked at Washington "'m sorry sir," he sniffled. Washington slowly rubbed his back. "All forgiven, son." 

Hamilton smiled, a bit uncertain. "I can go now, I don't want to disturb the rest of your evening." Washington shook his head. "You're not disturbing anything. How about you lay down on the couch here for a while and take a nap while I work?" Hamilton nodded and Washington lifted him up, laying him out on his side on the couch and spreading a blanket over him. 

Washington walked back over to his desk and started reading a letter, looking up periodically to check on Hamilton, who was fast asleep. Washington marveled at the sight. In his sleep, Hamilton, usually full of fiery energy, seemed very young and vulnerable. "Sleep well, my son," he murmured to himself before turning back to his work.


End file.
